That's the one thing I can still do. " She dropped a black card on the tray without looking at it. When the waiter was gone, she stared down at her own hands like they belonged to a stranger. "Do you know what the worst part is? " she said quietly. "What's that? " "I don't drink. " She laughed again, that same cracked sound. Ask anyone.
Victoria Harrington doesn't drink. I have one glass of champagne at the Christmas party and I nurse it for 3 hours. Control. That's the whole game, Mr. Walker.
You control the room. You control the deal. You control yourself. Above all, you control yourself. Her voice dropped.
And tonight I sat in this chair and drank an entire bottle of wine by myself because I could not think of a single reason not to. Do you understand how frightening that is? For someone like me, Nathan didn't say anything. He'd learned a long time ago that most people who are hurting don't need you to talk. They need you to stay in the chair.
Come on, he said gently. Let's get you up. He stood, came around the table and offered his hand. She looked at it for a moment. Then she took it and he pulled her to her feet and she swayed and he steadied her without thinking.
One hand under her elbow, the other at her back. I've got you, he said. The rain hadn't let up. When they stepped out under the awning, she stopped staring into it like it was a wall she couldn't cross. Wait here, Nathan said.
He shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. It swallowed her three sizes too big, still warm from his body. And then before she could argue, he swept it up over her head like an umbrella. Ready on three. 1 2 They ran.
He got her into the passenger seat, shut the door against the rain, jogged around, and dropped in behind the wheel, soaked to the skin, breathing hard. Water ran off his hair and down his neck. He didn't care. She was staring at him. You're drenched, she said.
I'll dry. You gave me your jacket. You needed it more. She kept staring at him, and something in her expression cracked open a little wider. "Why are you being kind to me? " she asked, and there was genuine confusion in it, like kindness was a foreign language she'd have forgotten.
Nathan started the truck. Because you called, he said simply, "And you sounded like somebody who needed a friend. " "We're not friends," she said. "You work for me. " Then think of it as overtime. And for the first time that night, she laughed. "A real one, small and tired and surprised out of her, but real. " "Where am I taking you? " he asked.